Private One More Mile

[Rin Taal]

For a brief, impossible moment, Rin forgot how to breathe.

His arms settled around her waist with an ease that felt so natural she found herself leaning into them almost before she realized she had moved. There was no awkwardness to it, no uncertainty over where one of them ended and the other began. It reminded her of watching two quiet streams meet high in the Veradune hills, each following its own course until, without resistance or hesitation, they became something neither could have been alone. That was what standing in Muad's embrace felt like. Not the excitement of discovering something new, but the quiet certainty of finding something that had been waiting for her all along. She breathed him in slowly, the familiar scent that had already begun to mean comfort settling warmly in her chest as her hands came to rest lightly against his sides.

When his lips brushed her cheek and wandered toward her ear, she closed her eyes with a contented sigh that escaped before she could catch it. The teasing nip at the tip of her ear drew the smallest, involuntary shiver from her shoulders, followed immediately by a blush that climbed with embarrassing enthusiasm all the way to the pointed tips themselves. She knew he noticed. Of course he noticed. The man seemed to delight in discovering every little betrayal her body committed before her carefully composed expression could conceal it.

His words lingered with her far longer than the playful bite.

I honestly regret my oath to you.

A quiet smile touched her lips as she watched him step back toward the doorway. She understood exactly which promise he meant, the one he had given her beneath the porch before ever stepping inside this room. She had needed that promise then. She had needed to know that whatever happened between them would always remain her choice. Looking at him now, watching the warmth in his eyes and the affection that had replaced uncertainty so completely, she couldn't help wondering whether that oath would matter much longer. Not because she wanted him to break it, but because she was beginning to suspect there would come a day when she would be the one closing the last little distance between them.

Not right now, though.

The realization settled comfortably inside her as she caught herself studying his lips for the briefest heartbeat before smiling to herself. Somehow she knew she would kiss him eventually. She wanted to. More than she had expected. Yet wanting didn't feel like enough. She didn't want their first kiss to happen because they had been teasing one another or because the moment happened to present itself. She wanted it to happen because every part of her had reached the same quiet conclusion and there was simply nothing left to wait for. When that moment arrived, she suspected she wouldn't hesitate for so much as a heartbeat.

"You're entirely too pleased with yourself," she observed with gentle amusement as she followed him into the hallway. "And yes...the pink ears are your fault."

She brushed lightly against his arm as they walked together, guiding him through the familiar corridor at an unhurried pace. Morning sunlight filtered through the windows, illuminating the family photographs he had admired the evening before and warming the polished wooden floor beneath their feet. They passed the guest rooms once more, the old rocking chair still sitting patiently where generations had left it, before she nodded toward a nearby door.

"The refresher's just here if you'd like it before breakfast."

She gave him a few quiet minutes while she waited farther down the hall, smiling to herself as she absentmindedly straightened a picture frame that had somehow drifted ever so slightly askew. It struck her that, for the first time in her life, she was waiting outside a refresher for someone she loved. The thought should have felt strange. Instead, it felt wonderfully ordinary.

When he rejoined her, she slipped naturally into step beside him once again, their arms brushing every so often as they continued toward the heart of the house. The scent of fresh caf, warm bread, and something sweet drifted through the open doorway ahead, accompanied by the comfortable murmur of conversation that only family homes ever seemed to possess. Rin slowed just enough to glance at him with an encouraging smile before leading him into the spacious kitchen.

"Everyone," she said warmly, drawing the attention of those already gathered around the large table. "I'd like you all to meet Muad."

Her eyes moved naturally around the room before settling first on her father.

"You've already met my father, Corren." She turned toward the woman seated beside him, her smile softening with unmistakable affection. "Muad, this is my mother, Maeve." Then her gaze shifted to the younger woman nearby. "And my sister, Asil."

A quiet laugh escaped her as she looked back toward him.

"There are more of us, but families have a habit of scattering. Some are traveling, some have homes of their own now, and a few simply visit whenever the road brings them back. You'll meet them eventually...just not all at once."

As she finished speaking, her hand found Muad's almost without thought beneath the edge of the table, her fingers brushing lightly against his for the briefest moment before slipping away again. It was a tiny gesture that no one else was likely to notice, yet it carried all the quiet reassurance she hoped he might need. Whatever nervousness either of them had felt outside her bedroom door, they would face this morning exactly as they had faced everything else since Batuu.

Together.

Muad Dib

 

[Muad Dib]

"Get a grip, Muad. It's not like you haven't met parents before. It's just been a while." Centuries and centuries, to be in fact. He had known Garith years before Arabella. They had become more of brothers in arms before. And Rianna came several decades after the fact. There was no need to impress. Or even desire to. But with Rin, he wanted to make a good impression, which was odd for the man known as the Mad Master. Water was splashed on his face from the sink as he attempted to tame his unruly hair. He failed.

With a shrug at his reflection in the mirror, he left the fresher and closed the door behind him. And there she was waiting for him. There was no thought that she wouldn't be, but seeing her there, eyes scanning one of the rooms that branched off from the hall, he felt the flutters in his stomach again. How did I manage to get so lucky? Or maybe she just had bad luck. He smirked as they began walking down the corridor; arms brushing unintentionally felt as comfortable as his weapons. But more precious. He couldn't explain it, but it just felt normal. Right.

Despite the hint of anxiety that crept into his mind, when Rin glanced at him, it all disappeared. Just her dazzling smile was the only thing needed to bring him back to reality. And then the introductions began. He gave a small nod of greeting to Corren, followed by Maeve, then to Astil. Her younger sister's name reminded him of his first blood brother, Dresdin. Dresdin Astil. His hands came together and he absently rubbed the runes on his hand before letting them fall back to his sides.

Rin's fingers ran along his, just beneath the edge of the table, which strengthened his resolve. Whatever happened, they were together. Attached. His eyes turned to Rin as she spoke and everything else vanished for a moment. His woman was sharing her family with him and her … he wasn't sure what to call himself, her Muad, with them.

He gave a polite smile as he looked between her parents. "Thank you for the hospitality. You have a wonderful home. And a beautiful daughter. Good job." His smile tweaked as he considered his words and sought to ease the uncomfortable tension he felt growing. "Um, the guest rooms looked nice but Rin wanted me in her bed." Wait, no, that was wrong … "I meant, she wanted to sleep with me. No, I mean, yes. But all we did was sleep. We already slept together on Batuu. I mean, we didn't sleep, we slept with each other. I mean, I was naked and she stripped down to lie with me." Gods, what was he saying? "I mean, I didn't see her naked. She saw me naked when I took my clothes off … I only saw her in her underwear. I didn't look under the blanket … Rin … help?"

Rin Taal

 

[Rin Taal]

Rin knew exactly what was about to happen.

She saw it in the way Muad hesitated just a fraction too long before speaking, in the determined look of a man who had clearly decided that honesty was the best possible course of action, and in the unmistakable glimmer of panic that appeared the instant the first sentence escaped his mouth. She could have rescued him. One word, perhaps two, and she could have gently steered the conversation back toward safer ground before he wandered headlong into the deepest hole imaginable. Instead, she remained perfectly still, lips pressed together as the corners of her mouth fought valiantly against a smile. There was something undeniably endearing about watching a man who had faced Sith, monsters, and battlefields across centuries discover that the most terrifying challenge of his life might very well be explaining an entirely innocent night to the parents of the woman he loved.

By the time he reached the part about Batuu, sleeping together, not sleeping together, clothing, blankets, and somehow becoming progressively less coherent with every attempt to clarify himself, Rin had lowered her head entirely. A warmth unlike anything she had ever experienced swept down from the bright crimson tips of her ears, across her cheeks, and disappeared beneath the collar of her shirt. She had become exquisitely aware that every member of her family was listening with unwavering attention while Muad, through no fault but his own wonderfully earnest nature, somehow managed to make each explanation sound dramatically worse than the last. She loved him dearly. At that particular moment, however, she also loved the floor for remaining solid enough that it refused to open and spare them both.

The silence that followed his final, thoroughly defeated, "Rin...help?" lasted only long enough for Corren to raise one broad hand. It was neither stern nor disapproving. If anything, it looked remarkably patient.

"Son," he said with the quiet ease of someone who had spent a lifetime calming nervous travelers, frightened children, and occasionally his own family. His hand made a small dismissive motion through the air, waving away the entire hopeless explanation as though it simply wasn't worth worrying about. "Take a breath."

Corren leaned back comfortably in his chair, his expression never once hardening. "We know what kind of life she leads. Rin has slept beneath wagons, beneath trees, in caves, on mountainsides, and beside campfires with people from every corner of the galaxy. She's a guide, a guardian, a musician, and whatever else she needs to be for the people traveling beside her."

A gentle smile settled across his face as his eyes met Muad's without the slightest trace of accusation. "I've spent a long time reading people. Comes with raising a family and welcoming strangers into your home." He gave the smallest nod toward his daughter before looking back at Muad. "And I know my daughter. If she chose to bring you here, then I already know more than enough about your character."

His smile widened just enough to soften the last of the tension lingering around the table. "So you don't need to fear me right now, son."

The room remained quiet for exactly one heartbeat before Asil broke. A snort escaped before she could stop it, followed immediately by a fit of laughter so sudden she nearly inhaled a mouthful of breakfast. She coughed once, twice, hastily covering her mouth while trying and failing to compose herself, tears gathering at the corners of her eyes as every attempt to regain control only reminded her of Muad's increasingly catastrophic explanation. Beside her, Maeve hid an unmistakably amused smile behind the rim of her mug, taking an unhurried sip of caf that did very little to disguise the warmth dancing in her eyes. She never laughed aloud, but the fond glance she exchanged with Corren suggested this was hardly the first wonderfully awkward morning their family had witnessed.

Rin remained frozen where she sat, certain she had never blushed so fiercely in all one hundred and fifty-four years of her life. The crimson warmth still reached from the delicate points of her ears down beneath the collar of her shirt, and for several mortifying heartbeats she couldn't bring herself to look anywhere except the tabletop. Yet as her father's words settled over the room, the embarrassment slowly gave way to something gentler. She lifted her eyes toward Corren first, then toward Muad, her smile returning little by little as the warmth in her cheeks faded into something far more comfortable. Her father hadn't merely accepted Muad. He had understood him, awkward explanations and all.

Her hand found Muad's once more beneath the edge of the table, this time not as a fleeting reassurance but with quiet certainty, her fingers slipping comfortably between his before giving the gentlest squeeze. "I did try to warn you," she murmured, the affectionate smile in her voice impossible to miss as she finally looked up at him again. "Though...I think you may have just set a new family record for making an innocent situation sound suspicious."

The laughter that escaped her then was soft, bright, and entirely free of embarrassment. Somehow, despite everything that had just happened, she found herself loving him just a little bit more.

Muad Dib

 

[Muad Dib]

For a man of considerable years and experience, he had placed both boots in his mouth and kicked. Rin was no help. She stood there glowing like a red beacon that only served to make his incriminating confession even more delectable in its horror. The pause between his last request for Rin's assistance and Corren speaking was so cringeworthy, he figured he might as well give his regards, wave, and find a cliff to jump from. He was too mortified to feel the sting of embarrassment. His mouth opened as he searched for some sentence to rectify.

Then Corren began, his deep voice lending stability to the situation, which almost gave Muad a form of motion sickness. His character was weighed against who Rin was, her personality more than tipped in the mad man's favor. When he ended it by saying he needn't fear him, Muad grinned. The man with the glowing blue eyes feared no man … maybe Maeve, though.

And then Asil tried to commit seppuku via breakfast, nearly dying from the manic humor inspired by his words. He cataloged the glance between Rin's parents and realized that despite his best, unintentional, efforts, his second meeting with her family wasn't as disastrous as he first assumed. His fingers felt the glide of Rin's own as they slipped into his hand, and he felt relief and comfort in the small gesture that warmed his heart.

With his other hand, he reached to the table and poured the steaming caf from the kettle into a mug in front of Rin, before topping off his own. His gaze turned to Rin, and he winked with his off eye, unseen by the others as he spoke along their bond. I still love that shade of pink on your ear tips. Another grin stretched his face before turning back to Corren.

"And I thank you for bearing with my … painful explanation of some of our," his eyes turned to Rin for a moment before continuing, "more colorful moments. I would never seek to treat your daughter with less respect than she deserves. And she deserves all the respect. And I agree with your assessment of Rin's judgment, though it may be somewhat skewed by how she feels about me. And how I feel about her. In the same regard, knowing Rin tells me a lot about her parents, upbringing, and the home she grew up and matured in. I meant it when I said 'good job'." His gaze fell back onto the woman holding his hand, and he grinned a goofy smirk. "She's an amazing woman."

Asil had finally found her composure after several moments of coughing. "And I look forward to hearing the unabridged version of some of her stories, like the incident with a wounded tree-glider and the search for it through the night. And I don't know you do it, Corren and Maeve. If one of my bu'ad, or ori'bu'ad had brought someone home who said what I did, well I might have tossed him over the side of my station." His smile froze momentarily, as he wondered why he kept putting his boot in his mouth. Muad had just admitted to having grandchildren and great-grandchildren. His admission also revealed he was considerably older than he looked, though vague enough an assumption of centuries, rather than a millennium, would be the thought, which would, potentially, make him their elder. Apparently his diet still needed more shoe leather.

Rin Taal

 

[Rin Taal]

Rin had been just beginning to recover.

The warmth in her cheeks had finally retreated to something approaching normal, and she had almost convinced herself that breakfast might continue without anyone accidentally revealing another astonishing detail about their lives. Then Muad thanked her parents, called her an amazing woman with a sincerity that stole the breath from her lungs, and somehow, with the same effortless talent he seemed to possess for finding conversational cliffs, casually mentioned both grandchildren and great-grandchildren. She closed her eyes for a brief moment, not because she was embarrassed anymore, but because she had reached the quiet conclusion that there simply wasn't enough caf in the galaxy to prepare anyone for breakfast with Muad. Every time she thought the conversation had found safe ground, he somehow unearthed an entirely new surprise with complete innocence.

The silence that followed his final, thoroughly defeated, "Rin...help?" lasted only long enough for Asil's eyes to widen dramatically. Maeve lowered her mug just enough to peer thoughtfully over its rim, curiosity replacing amusement, while Corren simply rested one elbow on the table, regarding Muad with the patient expression of a man who had already decided there was undoubtedly a fascinating story hiding behind every accidental confession the human made. Asil, meanwhile, looked back and forth between the two of them as though she were trying to solve an impossible puzzle.

"Great-grandchildren?" she echoed, blinking several times before turning toward Rin with a thoroughly bewildered expression. "Rin...exactly how old is he?"

By then, Rin had simply surrendered.

A quiet laugh escaped as she covered part of her face with one hand, shaking her head with the affectionate resignation of someone who had accepted that the wonderfully impossible man beside her was never going to stop surprising people. She could feel the sheepish warmth radiating through the hand he still held beneath the table, and rather than rushing to rescue him this time, she allowed herself the luxury of simply watching him. He had faced Sith Lords, monsters, wars, and centuries of hardship with remarkable composure, yet somehow a peaceful family breakfast had reduced him to a man accidentally confessing increasingly astonishing details about his life every few minutes. There was something so utterly genuine about it that she couldn't bring herself to interrupt.

"For what it's worth," she said at last, lowering her hand as her smile returned in full, "I don't think I've ever met anyone who can be so remarkably sincere while accidentally revealing entirely new chapters of his autobiography every few minutes." Her thumb brushed lightly across the back of his hand before she looked toward the rest of her family, amusement dancing openly in her golden eyes. "And yes...he's older than he looks." She glanced sideways at Muad, her expression softening into unmistakable affection. "Much older. The same can be said about us, though."

There was no hesitation or uncertainty in her voice. Whatever surprise his age might bring to the table, it had already ceased to matter to her. She had learned enough about Muad to understand that the years behind him explained many things, but they did not define the man sitting beside her. If anything, the morning had only reminded her how remarkably unchanged he remained beneath all those centuries. He was earnest to a fault, impossibly kind when no one expected it, and somehow capable of turning an ordinary family breakfast into one of the most memorable conversations any of them were ever likely to have.

"He's also exactly the man you've all met this morning," she continued, looking from Corren to Maeve before finally settling on Asil, whose grin had already begun returning despite her best efforts. "The one who comforted children before breakfast, carried half the caravan because nobody asked him not to, and somehow managed to make sleeping beneath a blanket sound like the most suspicious event in recorded history. If you give him another hour, I'm fairly certain he'll accidentally confess to starting a war he had nothing to do with."

That finally broke what little composure remained around the table. Asil burst into laughter so abruptly that she nearly repeated her earlier mistake, coughing into one hand while trying unsuccessfully to regain control. Maeve surrendered as well, the soft laugh she had been hiding behind her mug escaping at last as she shook her head fondly, while even Corren's quiet smile broadened into something unmistakably amused. Watching them all together, Rin felt the last traces of embarrassment dissolve completely. Her father hadn't merely accepted Muad. Somehow, in the span of a single wonderfully awkward breakfast, her family had begun doing exactly what she had known they eventually would.

Her hand remained comfortably entwined with his beneath the table as she leaned ever so slightly toward him, her shoulder brushing his arm with effortless familiarity. "You're doing much better than you think," she murmured quietly enough that only he would hear, her smile carrying every ounce of reassurance she felt. "Besides..." Her eyes sparkled with affectionate mischief as she looked at him from the corner of her eye. "I have a feeling my family is going to enjoy having you around far more than they're ever going to admit. Though..." A soft laugh escaped before she finished. "...you may want to avoid mentioning any more descendants until everyone's had a second cup of caf."

Muad Dib

 

[Muad Dib]

"Rin, exactly how old is he?"

Well, the Zorren was out of the bag now. Muad slipped into the chair, catching the curious look Maeve offered while Corren merely relaxed and waited, a bemused expression on his face. Asil still looked between the pair in complete befuddlement. Rin came to the rescue, better late than never, and shared that he was not as young as he appeared. Then she explained why she chose him. Because of what he showed her in action. His fingers tightened with hers, his gaze taking in the woman who jumped over the precipice. He loved her even more for it. Finally, he settled into the chair at the table and glanced around at Rin's family before he shrugged nonchalantly.

The free hand collected the mug of caf and raised it to his lips, taking a sip, before returning it to the hardwood table that reflected the light upon its varnished surface. The silence now stretched between them all as the information provided was examined. His eyes glowed when he grinned at Rin. Into the breach, eh darlin'? His nails tapped lightly on the table as he slowly returned his gaze to the other three family members. "Round about a thousand years old."

He raised the mug again and drained the caf in two strong gulps before he turned the cup between his fingers. "I've lived long enough to fight wars the galaxy no longer remembers. The rise and fall of governments and orders have been but a breath. I've lost friends and family together and known the taste of death. Fortunes have been gambled and lost, corporations built, planets brought to unification through my hands. And I've yet to start a war by accident."

The kettle was poured once more, filling his cup a second time. A small smile twitched at his lips as he thought, you did say wait for the second cup. "I was married. Once. Now a widower. But throughout my long life … I've never felt this way for someone I've known as little a time as I have Rin. But what I do know turns the scales of balance. She's kind and gentle. She's funny and caring. She's as hard as beskar when the time calls for it and as soft as the tawny fur on her tail when the occasion merits. I've seen her fight countless foes and run into a burning forest to protect both people and nature. I've watched as she played her harp and sang, if for no other reason than to bring comfort and joy. And I've known the touch of her hand on the other side of the grave. And though I have yet to kiss her lips, she has captured my heart. You see, I love your daughter."

He raised the mug to his lips and drank from his second cup of caf for the day. His words came simply from honesty. And in his genuineness, he sought no grandiose performance. For him, it was simply fact. "My intentions are to be a part of her life, for however long as she allows. I have never met anyone like her. And I don't believe I ever will." He gently squeezed her hand before taking another drink. "Now, I noticed a wheelbarrow out front. After breakfast, if you wouldn't mind, Corren, you could show me where I can shovel some gravel and dirt to fill that pothole down the road. Sometimes Rin drives a bit too chaotically for my tastes, and she'd never forgive herself for bottoming out her speeder."

His head tilted slightly as he waited for Corren's response. In his own mind, the subject was settled. There would be questions and stories to tell, of that he held no doubt. Asil may have many more opportunities to choke. Maeve would share more glances with her husband. And Corren would prove himself as pragmatic and accepting as his daughter. Perhaps Muad would have the opportunity to cause Rin's ear tips to redden many more times before the day was done. Despite the rocky start born through his honesty, he knew it was honesty that would see him through. These were Rin's people, her family. That meant they were his too.

Rin Taal

 

[Rin Taal]

Muad's fingers tightened gently around hers beneath the table, and without thinking, Rin answered by curling her own more comfortably around his. The warmth that had colored her cheeks only moments earlier continued to ebb away as he spoke, replaced instead by a quiet sense of pride she hadn't expected to feel. She listened without interruption while he spoke of a millennium that sounded less like a boast and more like someone recounting an impossibly long road. Wars forgotten by history, governments that had risen and fallen, friends buried, loves lost, entire worlds changed by the passing of time. There was no arrogance in his voice. If anything, she heard weariness beneath the experience, and beneath that something softer still. He wasn't telling them how extraordinary he was. He was simply telling them who he had been.

Without realizing it, she leaned a little closer until her shoulder rested comfortably against his arm. She wanted her family to see what she saw whenever she looked at him. Not the years he had lived or the countless stories hidden behind them, but the quiet kindness that seemed to survive despite them. The man who worked because someone needed another pair of hands, who spoke honestly even when honesty embarrassed him, and who somehow remained wonderfully, hopelessly himself after a lifetime that might have hardened almost anyone else. Every word he spoke only reminded her why she had chosen to stand beside him.

Then he said it. You see, I love your daughter.

The warmth returned so suddenly it caught her completely by surprise. It began at the delicate points of her ears before spilling across her cheeks and disappearing beneath the collar of her shirt, painting her in the same unmistakable crimson that had become almost familiar since meeting him. She didn't lower her eyes this time. She didn't retreat behind embarrassed laughter or look away from the people gathered around the table. Instead, she simply turned her head toward him, the smile that found her lips carrying every bit as much truth as the words he had just spoken. Her thumb brushed slowly across the back of his hand, and almost without realizing she had spoken aloud, she murmured, "I know..." A tiny laugh escaped her as she glanced down at her untouched mug. "I feel the same...and I think I need more caf."

Maeve's smile softened into something unmistakably maternal as she quietly reached for the kettle without being asked, topping off Rin's mug before setting it gently back in front of her. Corren, meanwhile, rested both forearms comfortably upon the table, his eyes lingering on the two of them for a thoughtful moment before Muad's final question drew an easy chuckle from somewhere deep in his chest.

"You can fill it if you'd like," Corren said with an amused smile, nodding toward the road beyond the window. "Though I should warn you it'll wash out again next year. Spring rains always win that particular argument." He glanced toward Rin, his smile widening just enough to reveal years of affectionate familiarity. "She knows every rut, every loose stone, and every flooded crossing between here and the next three valleys. She's been bouncing across that road since she was barely tall enough to see over a speeder's controls."

Another warm chuckle escaped him before his gaze settled once more upon Muad, steady and reassuring beneath the quiet authority he carried so naturally. There was no scrutiny in his expression now, only the quiet satisfaction of a father who had listened carefully and reached his own conclusion.

"You're a good son."

The words were offered without hesitation, without ceremony, and without condition. They were spoken as simply as though Corren had already reached his conclusion and saw no reason to complicate it further. Beside him, Rin felt something tighten quietly in her chest before easing just as quickly, her eyes drifting from her father back to the man whose hand she still refused to let go of. Somehow, in the span of a single breakfast, the two men she cared for most had found common ground, and the simple contentment that settled over the table afterward felt every bit as warm as the morning sunlight spilling through the windows.

The silence lasted for perhaps three whole seconds.

Then Asil leaned so far across the table that Maeve reached over almost instinctively to steady her plate before it slid into her lap. Whatever composure the younger zorren had managed to reclaim after nearly choking on breakfast vanished completely beneath an avalanche of curiosity. Her golden eyes had grown almost impossibly wide, darting between Muad and Rin with the unrestrained fascination of someone who had just discovered the ordinary breakfast guest sitting across from her had personally witnessed events usually confined to history texts.

"A thousand years?" she blurted, the questions already tumbling over one another before the first had properly escaped. "What's the oldest thing you've ever seen? Did you really meet people we've only read about? Have you actually visited Coruscant when it looked like it does in the old holobooks? Have you flown antique ships? Do you still know anyone from back then? Have you always looked like...well..." She gestured vaguely toward him with her fork. "...you?"

Maeve sighed softly into her mug, though the smile she tried to hide suggested she had long ago accepted that conversations involving Asil rarely followed anything resembling a straight line.

"Breathe, Asil," Corren advised with patient amusement. "The poor fellow hasn't finished breakfast yet."

"Right." She paused. Lasting precisely one bite. "But after breakfast, can I ask the rest?

Corren chuckled, while Maeve simply shook her head with the resigned affection of a mother who knew perfectly well that "the rest" probably numbered somewhere in the hundreds.

Rin couldn't help laughing as she reached for her caf once more, grateful for the excuse to hide another smile behind the warm mug. Somehow she wasn't surprised. Asil had always collected stories the way some people collected shells or pressed flowers. Travelers rarely escaped the younger zorren's relentless curiosity, and Muad represented what was, without question, the most extraordinary traveler ever to sit at their family table. She caught his eye for a brief moment over the rim of her mug, an apologetic little smile touching her lips before amusement won out entirely.

"I should probably warn you," she said with quiet affection. "She isn't going to run out of questions."

"Absolutely not," Asil agreed immediately, completely unapologetic. "I've waited my entire life to meet someone who remembers history instead of reading about it."

Breakfast drifted onward after that in the comfortable, wandering rhythm of conversation. Plates gradually emptied while Maeve insisted everyone accept second helpings whether they believed themselves hungry or not. Corren shared the occasional story about the road ahead, Asil interrupted them all whenever another question occurred to her, and Rin found herself listening more than speaking, content simply to watch the people she loved begin weaving another into the fabric of their lives. There had been no dramatic moment when Muad ceased feeling like a guest. Somewhere between Corren calling him son, Maeve quietly refilling his mug whenever it neared empty, and Asil enthusiastically planning enough questions to occupy the next several days, it had simply...happened.

By the time the last crumbs of fresh bread had disappeared and the caf kettle had finally surrendered its final cup, the conversation had settled into the easy familiarity that always followed a good meal. Chairs scraped gently across the wooden floor as everyone began gathering plates almost without thinking, each person slipping naturally into the little routines repeated thousands of times before. Rin rose beside Muad, their hands brushing once again before she smiled up at him, warmth lingering in her golden eyes.

"Come on," she said softly. "Before Asil decides the next logical step is interviewing you for the rest of the afternoon."

"That was already the plan," Asil protested from across the table.

Rin laughed outright. "See?"

Muad Dib

 

[Muad Dib]

With Rin's statement, Maeve's expression changed, shifting from curious to a mother's look. He understood what transpired. Rin's words turned Muad from a guest of her daughter's into someone who had captured a piece of Rin. And she had a piece of him. As her shoulder pressed into him, he closed his eyes for a moment, feeling the peace that washed over him. As his eyes opened, Corren rested his large forearms on the table and began to speak.

Roads washed away. It was their nature. And Muad turned, trying to picture a tiny Rin, hands on the controls, and only her eyes and the tips of her ears visible over the dashboard. He grinned at the mental image until Corren called him a good son. His smirk slackened as his mind went back through time. His parents died before he could have a memory of them. Garith considered him like a younger brother. Rianna tolerated him until he proved his worth. But never once had anyone called him son. It was foreign to his mind. Not even old Gilamar or Ordo referred to him as such as he transitioned to a Mandalorian. And yet Corren, a man young enough to call Muad an ancestor, named him son. It was a feeling he couldn't describe, so he filed it away for later consideration.

He nodded as he took a sip. "Some labors only occur once in a lifetime. Others must be upkept continually. If my labor disappears in a year, at least it serves its purpose for a season. That's the way life is." There was no denying it needed to be done, and Muad had never shirked hard labor before. Then, just as things began to flow along a natural state, Rin's younger sister nearly climbed across the table, her eyes as wide as her mouth as questions flew faster than a blaster rifle on full auto.

Corren gently reminded her of decorum, and Muad caught the resigned amusement behind her eyes. He grinned as he lifted his mug to Maeve in a type of salute, before taking another drink. Then he leaned back, his posture relaxing even as he held his woman's hand beneath the table. Rin's quiet apologetic explanation of her sister only served to amuse him even more. "Okay, vod'ika. A few answers. The oldest things I've seen would have to be the ancient Je'daii temples on Tython. At that time they were between twenty-five and thirty thousand years old. Sadly, they no longer exist. Exar Kun's temple on Yavin Four is also millennia old. My blood brother and I once owned a dojo on the mid levels of Coruscant, before the Vong. I spent a lot of time there. The buildings there now don't reach as high as they did back then."

Food was distributed, and their conversation turned to more benign topics, though Muad found himself answering several more of Asil's questions before breakfast ended. "Around my third century I met the Grand Master of the Jedi Council. Good guy. His name was Lance Skywalker. Descended from Luke Skywalker. As for knowing anybody now, in the present, that I knew back then … only one remains. A Jedi named Katarine Ryiah. She ended up in stasis and was awakened within the last decade. Well, my brother too. However, he slipped through time in stasis as well. Everyone else? Gone. Nearly none know any of their names anymore. They live only in my memories." His eyes stared at the empty plate before him, thoughts lost in time. When Maeve gave everyone seconds, he grinned and thanked her. The moment of introspection was gone, like all the faces from the past.

After breakfast, they rose and worked together in the kitchen. Food was put away and dishes washed. Rin's parents moved back to the table with fresh cups of caf while Asil leaned against one wall. No doubt constructing another list of questions in her mind. His laughter joined with Rin's at the little sister's confirmation. While they stood at the table, Muad reached around his back and pulled the kal in its sheath from where it rested. On the back was a shallow sleeve that he reached into.

"I learned a long time ago to always keep a little cash on me. Around seventy years after the battle of Yavin, I found myself on Naboo. I was there for … reasons … and I was playing sabaac in one of Theed's grand casinos. It had come down to just me and another guy. He was a Jedi Knight named Gabriel. His chips had run out, and he tossed this into the pot, which I won. He was a good friend, but I held onto this as a nice keepsake. You might appreciate it more."

A few Siskeeni credits came out along with some old CIS currency. And then his fingers found it, almost welded to the leather of the sheath. The credit was held between his thumb and forefinger, letting the light hit the face to reveal the Old Republic insignia on it. Muad looked at it a final time before he flicked it into an arc and onto Asil's outstretched hands. "Keep it. I still have the memories." His arm went around Rin's waist without thought, the gesture as natural as breathing. "Now, if you excuse us, Rin here promised me a trip to some of her favorite places in the woods. And I'll answer whatever questions you have later, vod'ika."

Rin Taal

 

[Rin Taal]

Rin listened every bit as intently as her younger sister, though for entirely different reasons. Asil chased history, names, dates, and places with the boundless enthusiasm of someone who had just discovered a living holobook had wandered into the family kitchen. Rin, however, found herself listening for the man hidden inside those stories instead. Every answer Muad gave revealed another stretch of road he had walked, another friendship treasured, another loss quietly carried forward. She noticed the way his smile softened whenever he spoke of people who had mattered to him, and how, for only a heartbeat at a time, an old sadness surfaced before being gently tucked away again. The centuries had written themselves across his heart far more deeply than they ever had across his face, and somehow that only made her admire him more.

Breakfast gradually settled into the easy rhythm every family meal eventually found. Plates emptied only to be filled again despite everyone's insistence they had already eaten enough, while conversation drifted effortlessly between ancient Jedi temples, old Coruscant, fencing that still needed repairing before autumn, and whether one of the draft animals had developed a habit of escaping its pen again. Rin smiled quietly into her caf as Muad somehow navigated every change in subject with the same easy sincerity. Stranger still, it no longer felt as though she had brought someone home to meet her family. Somewhere between Corren calling him son and Maeve absentmindedly refilling his mug without asking whether he wanted more, he had simply become part of the morning.

When breakfast finally surrendered to full stomachs and empty platters, everyone drifted naturally into cleaning without needing to discuss who would do what. Rin carried dishes toward the sink while Muad gathered mugs from around the table, Maeve wrapped leftovers for later, and Corren wiped the great wooden table clean with slow, practiced strokes. Asil, meanwhile, remained almost suspiciously quiet, perched near the doorway with the unmistakable expression of someone trying very hard not to ask another question before the dishes were finished. Rin recognized that look immediately. It never lasted long.

As she placed the last clean plate into the cupboard, Corren rested a gentle hand against her shoulder and inclined his head toward the hallway. She followed him only a few steps, close enough that their conversation remained private while the familiar sounds of the kitchen continued behind them. He folded his arms comfortably across his chest before nodding toward the forest beyond the windows. "When you're showing him around today, take him to see Marta and Chek." Rin blinked in mild surprise before understanding settled across her features almost immediately. Those two had become as much a part of the forest as the old trees themselves. She had already planned on visiting them. "I was thinking the same thing." Corren's smile deepened just enough to tell her he had expected exactly that answer. "I thought you might."

They returned to the kitchen just in time to find Muad reaching behind the sheath of his kal and producing the ancient Republic credit. The little silver disk had scarcely landed in Asil's hands before an utterly undignified squeak escaped her. She clutched it against her chest with both hands as though someone might suddenly change their mind and reclaim it, her eyes darting over every tiny detail stamped into its worn surface. "Thank you!" she exclaimed, nearly bouncing where she stood. "I'm never losing this. Ever. I think this is officially my favorite thing I've ever owned." She paused only long enough to peer back up at Muad. "Do you...have anything older?" Corren's eyes closed for a moment while Maeve laughed into the dish towel she was folding. "Asil..." he sighed. She looked entirely unapologetic. "What? It seemed like a reasonable question."

Rin couldn't help laughing along with everyone else as she leaned lightly against the counter. There it was. The family she had known all her life. Asil chasing every interesting thought without brakes, Corren pretending to disapprove while secretly enjoying every minute of it, and Maeve watching the entire exchange unfold with the patient amusement of someone who had seen this exact conversation play out in a dozen different forms over the decades. The only difference this morning was that Muad had somehow slipped into the rhythm of it all without missing a beat.

Maeve shook her head fondly as she watched Asil continue examining the coin from every conceivable angle. "You'd think she wasn't entirely grown up yet, the way she carries on." Her smile softened as she looked toward Muad. "Can you believe she isn't even the youngest? She's a hundred and twenty-seven. Caelan is still our baby." Corren released a theatrical sigh that suggested parenthood remained an adventure regardless of how many centuries one happened to live. "Unfortunately, Caelan knows it too." Maeve chuckled. "He absolutely does. He's become remarkably skilled at reminding us."

That observation seemed to spark another thought inside Asil's wonderfully relentless mind. She looked up from the coin with complete seriousness, studying both of her parents before asking, "So...are you two going to have more?" Maeve blinked once before laughing outright while Corren slowly pinched the bridge of his nose with the weary expression of a man who had clearly survived this conversation before. "You ask us that every few years." Asil shrugged innocently. "Eventually I'll be right. It's been ninety-one years since Caelan was born. Doesn't it usually happen every twenty-five to fifty?" Maeve exchanged a thoroughly amused look with her husband before smiling back at her daughter. "Most likely. Nothing's planned at the moment, but we've learned not to make promises where family is concerned." Corren merely muttered something about never winning arguments with optimists, which earned another round of laughter around the kitchen.

The old Republic credit disappeared safely into Asil's pocket just as Muad promised to answer whatever other questions she could think of later. Her entire face lit up again with enough enthusiasm that Rin was almost surprised she didn't begin asking immediately. Instead, she clasped both hands together beneath her chin and gave an excited nod. "Deal! I'm going to make a list, so I don't forget any." Rin laughed softly and shook her head. "That might be the most dangerous sentence anyone has spoken all morning." Even Corren chuckled at that one, while Maeve looked toward Muad with the sort of sympathetic smile usually reserved for travelers about to discover exactly how long an afternoon with Asil could become.

Corren finally waved one broad hand toward the front door, sunlight spilling warmly across the wooden floor beyond it. "Go on, you two. Enjoy the day while you've got it." Maeve nodded in agreement, already reaching for the kettle to prepare another pot of caf. "And come back for lunch if you can." Rin's hand found Muad's almost immediately, her fingers weaving naturally through his as she smiled first toward her family and then up at him, quiet excitement brightening her golden eyes. "Come on," she said softly. "I have a few places I'd like you to see...and before Asil remembers another question." As if summoned by name, Asil drew in a breath to speak. Rin laughed outright and gently tugged Muad toward the door before her sister could manage another word.

Muad Dib

 

[Muad Dib]

Before Asil could assault him with another round of questions, he gripped Rin's hand firmly in his own and made their escape through the front door and into the morning air. Standing on the porch, he sighed deeply. It wasn't that the morning was unpleasant, far from it. It was a pleasant breakfast with enjoyable company. But now he got Rin to himself for a while. The sun sent its light to the Planet of Veradune. And even though Muad had seen everything the previous night, he took a moment on the porch to see things anew.

Everything seemed more vibrant. The trees stood taller, dark green leaves waving in the subtle breeze. The path into the yard was compressed along its well-worn trail. The rest of the yard lay out thick green grass. It wasn't too tall, due most likely to Corren. Around the left side of the house were raised planter beds filled with an assortment of vegetables ranging from nearly ripe to recently planted. Wooden rails ran along each bed, three boards high. To the right was an altogether different type of garden. Flowers grew along the edges of the garden, colors ranging from bright yellows to deep purple. Bushes were carefully trimmed as roses and carnations sprouted from their depths. Small beads of dew still sparkled from delicate petals, lending a fantastical air to the floral designs.

A shed and workstation were off the drive. One half was enclosed while the other shared the wooden shingled roof but lacked walls. The design would help when the temperature rose, allowing a cross breeze to keep the workstation cooler. At the back were several piles—gravel, clay, and dirt. Even further away was a compost pile held in shape by wire fencing. Trees littered the property, the giant oaks stretching majestic branches outward to offer havens of shade. On the opposite side of the driveway, a massive gazebo left a large footprint. Benches lined the interior of its octagon shape while a large table stood in its center. One of the oaks lent an outstretched limb to give shade to the gazebo. Several old swings hung from the branch, remnants of a time when children played there.

His arm slipped from her hand and wove around her narrow waist, fingers resting on the curve of Rin's hip. "I now see why you always return home. Not just the family, but the place. It all has an ambiance that is inviting. Not quite as inviting as your bed …" A glowing eye winked in playfulness as his fingers found the gap between the hem of her shirt and the top of the skirt. One finger lightly drew soft circles upon the flesh of her skin as he released another contented sigh. "I could get used to this."

Then his eyes spied the wheelbarrow, and he nodded, more to himself than anything else. "First, a little labor, darlin'." He leaned in and kissed her temple before releasing her and taking the steps to the ground in a single bound. When he reached the back of the shop, he glanced at the wheelbarrow before scanning the work station for a shovel. An amused smirk crossed his face as he looked at the single shared wall between the shed and the shop. Tools of various sizes and shapes hung from pegs. Each tool lay against a black outline drawn on the wooden surface indicating what went where. An appreciative smile crept upon his face as he took the shovel down—nothing like an orderly tool shed.

He paused at the cross braces and leaned the shovel against a post before pulling his tunic off to drape over one of the wooden railings. Then, with shovel in hand, he flipped the wheelbarrow onto its singular wheel and moved to the piles. Quickly, he tossed several shovels full of clay and gravel into the bottom of the wheelbarrow until its weight sagged the lone tire. Satisfied with the amount, he stabbed the shovel deep and gripped the handles before steering the cumbersome load to the drive and beyond. Muad felt Rin's presence next to him, and he grinned like an idiot.

As they walked along, his eyes scanned the land. Several trees held nests with squeaking birds still bereft of feathers—only the light brown fuzz still on their bodies. In the distance, he spied several species of herd animals. The male stood tall, a white blaze of fur on his chest, and an array of majestic antlers forking from his head. The creature raised his head and tested their scent in the air before shaking his regal head. They didn't retreat, but the male did keep a vigilant watch as the two continued along the road. The longer grass along the road writhed, and small heads popped up to watch their progression before disappearing again within the grass. It would seem that nature had decided long ago to live in harmony with the Zorrens who lived in the communal compound.

At last, they reached their destination. With a mighty heave, Muad dumped the contents of the wheelbarrow into the pothole before setting it to the side and retrieving the shovel. "So, tell me about your brother. Is he like the rest of the family? And how many siblings do you have? Grandparents?" He spoke as he worked, ear attentive to Rin's words. Swiftly, he leveled out the pile, stepping in and using his boots and bodyweight to compress it. Once this was done, he used the edge of the shovel to scrape the excess dirt that had escaped the hole by the constant passing of vehicles back onto the top of the newly filled pothole. One more little march around the ground finished compressing the dirt. He nodded silently at a job completed before dropping the shovel into the tub of the wheelbarrow and taking the handles to head back to the homestead.

Despite the brief labor, his breath came evenly. It wasn't enough work to leave him tired and huffing from the exertion. But it was enough to coat his bare torso in a sheen of sweat. On their journey back, he enjoyed the breeze that blew across his skin, cooling him down in the process. "I know a little bit about Veradune's history. How long has your family been in the house? Did your younger siblings grow up in the forests like you? And any older siblings I should be worried about? An overprotective older brother perhaps?" His smile was teasing, though he was curious about her family and the dynamics she grew up with.

Back at the compound, he placed the wheelbarrow back where it came from and returned the shovel to its original spot. A rain barrel sat amidst the piles of dirt, and he walked over before dunking his upper body in the water. When he came up for air, he shook his head, which sent water flying from his disheveled hair. His eyes turned to Rin, and he grinned before taking several strides toward her. He bent and caught her from just below her hips and lifted her into the air, a lazy spin escaping with a laugh. Then he slowly loosened his grip, allowing her to slide down into his embrace, arms circling her waist. His head leaned forward into the familiar gesture, foreheads pressed against one another. Noses lightly touched as he breathed in the aroma that belonged to her.

I don't think I'll ever get tired of this. Or get used to it. My lovely, little witch. Again, he pulled back to kiss the tip of her nose before lowering his face and bringing his lips close to hers. It wasn't a conscious decision—just the desire to taste her lips. But just as his lips tingled at their proximity, he paused, a light chuckle drifting between them. You almost had me, darlin'. Not yet. I have an oath to keep. With obvious reluctance, he freed her and turned to collect his tunic to slip on. He turned back to her now fully dressed. "What's next? You've got me now. What exactly do you want to do: places to rediscover or people to meet? I'm all yours."

Rin Taal

 

[Rin Taal]

Rin remained beside him on the porch while he quietly admired the compound in the fresh light of morning. Watching someone else discover home always made her see it differently herself. The gardens her mother lovingly tended seemed brighter beneath the early sun, every flower still jeweled with dew while the raised vegetable beds carried the rich scent of damp earth. Somewhere beyond the immediate area came the cheerful sound of children beginning another day, and farther still the forests answered with birdsong so familiar she rarely noticed it anymore. This place had never been grand or extravagant. It had simply always been alive. Every path carried memories, every tree had watched generations grow beneath its branches, and every familiar corner had quietly helped shape the woman she had become.

His arm settling comfortably around her waist drew her naturally against him, her own arm finding the small of his back as though it belonged there. Following his gaze, she watched him take in the old swings hanging beneath the great oak, the carefully ordered workshop, and the flower gardens that bordered the home. A soft laugh escaped when his fingers slipped beneath the edge of her shirt, tracing absent circles against her skin that immediately warmed the tips of her ears. "It's never really belonged to us," she said quietly, resting her head for just a moment against his arm. "The house...the land...even the forests. We've simply cared for them for a while. Someday another generation will do the same. Father always says we're only borrowing them until it's someone else's turn."

She smiled knowingly when his attention settled upon the pothole near the road. Somehow she had expected exactly that. Following him toward the workshop, she watched with quiet amusement as he immediately appreciated the painted outlines behind each hanging tool before selecting the proper shovel. Her grandfather Garran would have approved wholeheartedly. Every tool had its place because time spent searching for one was time wasted. Muad returning everything with the same instinctive care somehow felt perfectly natural. It was another tiny thing that made her wonder how someone so different from herself could feel so remarkably at home here.

The time passed easily beside him as they walked the quiet road together, birds calling overhead while curious woodland creatures watched from the grasses without ever appearing alarmed. Muad's questions came one at a time while he shoveled and leveled fresh gravel into the road, giving her plenty of opportunity to answer without feeling hurried. "Rowan is the oldest," she began with an affectionate smile. "He's two hundred and forty-eight now. Married, settled nearby, and already has children who are convinced they're old enough to ignore his advice." She laughed softly. "He's the dependable one. If something breaks, everyone calls Rowan. If someone needs advice, everyone calls Rowan. He pretends it annoys him, but I think he secretly enjoys being needed."

"Elara came next. She's two hundred and twelve and inherited Mother's patience. Grandmother taught her nearly everything she knows about herbs and growing things, and now she spends much of her time traveling to study plants in other parts of Veradune. She always comes home eventually, though." Her smile lingered before softening ever so slightly. "Then there was Aidan." She walked beside him for several quiet moments before continuing, her voice remaining gentle rather than sorrowful. "He was twenty-two years older than I was. He loved these forests every bit as much as I do. One day...he simply didn't come home." She glanced toward Muad with a reassuring little smile. "That was a long time ago. We still tell his stories. Around here that's how someone stays part of the family." A little more warmth returned to her expression. "Then came me, then Asil, and finally Caelan."

The mention of her younger siblings immediately brightened her expression again. "Asil doesn't really need explaining anymore." She chuckled. "You survived breakfast." Her golden eyes danced with quiet amusement. "She'll probably spend the next several days thinking of questions she forgot to ask you." A fond shake of her head followed. "And Caelan is ninety-one. Somehow he's still everyone's baby despite disappearing into the wilderness for months at a time. He always comes back carrying something unusual that absolutely had to come home with him." She laughed again. "Father usually sighs before asking where on Veradune he's been this time."

By the time they returned to the compound, the road behind them looked as though the pothole had never existed at all. Muad's question about overprotective older brothers drew another genuine laugh from her. "Only if Rowan doesn't like you," she answered with a teasing smile. "If he doesn't, he simply becomes quieter. That's considerably more intimidating." She folded her hands behind her back while watching him rinse away the dust and sweat collected during their brief labor. Water streamed through his dark hair before tracing familiar paths over the countless scars she had already begun thinking of as chapters rather than imperfections. Somewhere during the last several seconds she realized she was staring again.

She barely recovered before he crossed the yard and effortlessly swept her into the air. Laughter escaped as the world lazily turned around them until she settled once more against him, her body fitting naturally against his without the slightest need to think about where to place her hands or how close to stand. Their foreheads rested together, noses brushing lightly while his familiar scent mixed with fresh rainwater. It should have felt impossibly soon. They had shared less than a handful of days together. Yet standing there outside the home where she had spent more than a century growing into herself, she found it impossible to think of him as someone new. Everything about their closeness simply felt...right.

When he pulled back with that reluctant chuckle, honoring the promise he had made to her despite every obvious temptation not to, Rin could not help smiling. She watched him retrieve his tunic before quietly slipping her fingers back into his hand once more. "Both," she answered softly when he asked what came next. "Father asked me to take you to visit two old friends of ours. Marta and Chek." A fond smile touched her lips as she glanced toward the speeder resting beneath the shade near the workshop. "They live a few hours from here, so I think we'll spare you the walk." Her eyes returned to his with quiet warmth. "After that, if we still have the afternoon..." She gave his hand a gentle squeeze while leading him toward the waiting speeder. "I'd like to show you the places that made this feel like home."

Muad Dib

 

[Muad Dib]

When she took his hand, there was never going to be a no from him. Absolutely. His mind was still cataloging the family members. And now another couple to visit. It should have felt overwhelming. But it didn't. It felt like revisiting a place that barely existed, a place of half-forgotten memories of faded dreams. Like he had been here, breathed in this air, seen this house, and held Rin's hand before. He knew this wasn't true, yet the feeling persisted. When he looked into her glowing eyes, he began to understand why he felt as he did.

This place belonged to Rin. Or, perhaps, Rin belonged to this place. Everything he loved about the woman before him had its genesis on this planet: even her family felt like people he had known in another life. That was because he could see her stoicness reflected in her mother. Calm pragmatism in Corren. Boundless curiosity in Asil. Even the mantle of leadership of Rowan's, spoken of by Rin, was a mirror image of her own qualities.

The steadfastness of the trees. The beauty of the flowers. Golden fireflies with a familiar light. Even the home where everything had its place, though it may appear uncoordinated at times. All of this was his woman. And Rin was all of these things. The fact that she wanted to share what was once held so private and dear to her caused his heart to beat stronger. She chose him, in the same way that he chose her. They were attached. And more.

As they slowly walked toward the speeder, he gently bumped into her, feeling her hip jostle his upper thigh. A smile was offered as he gazed at her. "Thank you. Thank you for sharing the intimacy of why you are what you are. A fine woman." In more ways than one, his thoughts whispered along their bond. As they neared the speeder, he released her hand, and he moved to the passenger side where he lightly hopped over the door and into the seat. His left hand stretched out to the back of Rin's chair. As his eyes found the familiar cracks in the dashboard, he gave voice to his query.

"Where did you even find this thing? And was it you that gave her its worn and comfortable ambiance? And who is the couple we're meeting?" A brow raised as he chuckled at a thought. While he and Rin were entangled in their journey down the road, it was this vehicle that started them on their path. He had fond feelings about the speeder and understood that if he felt this way in the short span of time spent with it, to Rin it was as precious as everything else she brought home.

Rin Taal

 

[Rin Taal]

Her fingers laced comfortably through his as they crossed the yard toward the waiting speeder, the familiar weight of his hand already feeling as though it belonged there. His gratitude drew a warmth to her expression that lingered long after he had finished speaking. There was something quietly humbling about watching someone see her home through fresh eyes, and even more so knowing he understood what she had been trying to show him. This was more than a place. It was the beginning of her. Every lesson, every scar, every kindness and stubborn streak had roots somewhere among these forests and the people who called them home.

"You're welcome, Muad," she replied softly, her smile growing warmer until it bordered on something far deeper. She held his gaze for another heartbeat before giving the slightest shrug of one shoulder. "I hope to show you all of..." She searched for the right word, then laughed quietly at herself. "...me." The admission felt strangely vulnerable despite how simple it was. If he wished to know her, then he deserved to know more than stories. He deserved to see the people, the places, and the memories that had shaped the woman walking beside him.

She watched him vault easily into the passenger seat before circling around to the driver's side. The familiar creak of the door accompanied her as she settled behind the controls, one hand instinctively brushing across the worn dashboard before turning the ignition. The old repulsorlifts hummed awake with the same comforting vibration they always had, accompanied by an engine that sounded just a little rougher than it had the year before.

His question earned an amused little laugh.

"Bracca," she answered, glancing over at him while easing the speeder onto the narrow road leading away from the compound. "She was sitting in the middle of a scrapyard looking more like spare parts than a vehicle. It took me quite a while to get her rebuilt into something I trusted enough to drive." Her fingers tapped affectionately against the steering wheel. "And then I immediately started putting her through far more than anyone ever intended."

She reached beneath the dashboard and gave a light rap against a weathered metal panel tucked beneath the instrument cluster. The faded manufacturer's plate was scratched nearly smooth by time, but one tiny emblem remained stubbornly intact. Looking toward him, she offered an almost conspiratorial wink.

"That plate is older than most governments."

A grin tugged at the corners of her lips as she guided the speeder around a gentle bend. "I thought you might recognize it."

The engine gave its familiar rumbling growl, drawing another affectionate smile from her.

"There isn't much left that's original anymore," she admitted. "Whenever something wears out, I cobble together something else. A bearing from one transport, a power coupling from another, wiring from whatever I happen to find that still works. She's become a little like one of my packs over the years. Patched together often enough that she's more my work than the manufacturer's." She patted the dashboard lightly. "She complains every morning...but she always gets me home." One hand fisted above her chest, and he would be familiar with the meaning.

The road slowly left the cluster of homes behind as the forests reclaimed the landscape around them. Sunlight filtered through towering branches overhead, dappling the windshield with shifting patches of gold. Rin settled comfortably into the drive before answering his final question.

"Marta and Chek," she said with unmistakable affection. "They're...old. Even by our standards." She smiled to herself before glancing sideways at him. "Older than you." The teasing lingered only a moment before warmth returned to her voice. "They've watched generations grow up. They knew my great-grandparents when they were children, my parents when they were courting, and every one of us long before we were old enough to wander these woods on our own."

Her eyes returned to the road, though the smile never quite left her face.

"I think you'll like them," she said quietly. "And if I'm right..." Her fingers tightened ever so slightly around the steering wheel. "They'll like you too."

Muad Dib

 

[Muad Dib]

"And I hope to see all of … you." His grin was matched with a wink. He thoroughly enjoyed their back-and-forth conversation. When she began speaking again , he relaxed into the familiar seat and laid his head against the rest as his gaze watched her hands at the controls. The yoke wore the wear of countless years until they had molded to her petite hands. Fingers rested in the grooves etched into the deep leather. And as she spoke, he realized he had more in common with the speeder than he originally thought.

They were both ancient, having weathered time and handling until, at some point, the one who once owned the vehicle had abandoned it. Who knew how long it sat, amidst the ruins of others just like it. Until the day Rin came along and didn't see a wreck. She saw something worth saving. A thing worthy of her time and care. And slowly, it came to life with a second lease on life. Eventually, the speeder became something of worth and found a new existence in her presence. Much like the man who sat in the passenger seat.

He grinned at his thoughts before wondering about the oddity of their connection. He had known others who, through years, love, and living a life together, slowly built a connection between them. However, there was something unique about the bond grown from a simple link connecting thoughts for a single mission. From humble beginnings, their bond grew stronger. From Batuu to Veradune, their connection had only strengthened with each passing minute. The closest thing he had seen was the bond between his uncle, Rhaegar, and Ginnie Dib. He had taken her broken body and brought her back. And in the process a piece of their souls were interchanged. A vital part that led to Muad being able to resurrect Rhaegar from his own death. Though the price cost both Derek and Muad a child in the process. William, a trueborn son of Derek. And Jia, a clone of Muad and Arabella. Both lost.

A wistful smile etched onto his face. His life was filled with loss. But maybe, with Rin, that would change. He could only hope and pray to the Manda this was true with every fiber of his being.

"I've heard of Bracca. Never visited. I always wanted to see the scrapyards there." His hand slipped over and caught her tail, fingers lightly stroking the length. For another time, he wondered just what kind of sensation she felt at a light tug. However, he would never do it. He smirked as he ran his fingers along the fine fur, treating it as precious as he would the soft skin of her neck. Then an expression of surprised hurt appeared. "Just because I'm old doesn't mean I know everything else that's old." He managed to hold his wounded features for several beats of his heart before his grin reappeared.

His gaze took in the changing landscape as the pockets of civilization slowly gave way to nature. On Veradune, nature seemed caught between the livelihood of spring and the colors of fall. Greens and reds littered tree branches even as the cool breeze sent smaller limbs into motion, the sun twinkling through the moving canopies. Nothing at all like Coruscant, with kilometers and kilometers of duracrete for every square inch of grass. He never cared for cities and planets like that. Maybe that was why Veradune spoke to him: that, and the fact it was also Rin's home.

"Marta and Chek. I've rarely had the opportunity to meet anyone older than I. And most of the ones who are, typically acquired their lifespans due to the dark side of the Force. I'm looking forward to meeting them. So, they remember Veradune from before the fall? I wonder how they would compare the two eras." His eyes closed as he enjoyed the leisurely day with his woman. The first of many, he prayed.

Rin Taal

 

[Rin Taal]

A quiet smile found Rin's lips as she guided the speeder along the winding forest road, sunlight flickering through the canopy in shifting patches across the windshield. It pleased her that he saw more than simply an old machine patched together from forgotten parts. Most people noticed the mismatched panels, the worn upholstery, or the engine that grumbled before reluctantly settling into a comfortable hum. Muad had somehow looked past all of that, just as he always seemed to do.

"She was already old when I found her," Rin said, patting the dashboard affectionately. "Old enough that you might have driven one in your younger days." Her golden eyes danced with quiet amusement before she glanced sideways at him. "Or perhaps complained that the newer models weren't built as well as they used to be."

The gentle stroke along her tail sent an involuntary little shiver up her spine. She tried very hard to pretend it hadn't, but the tip betrayed her first, giving a slow contented flick before curling more comfortably into his waiting hand. Rather than pulling away, she let it remain there, enjoying the simple affection far more than she expected she would.

"You will," she answered softly, the warmth in her voice matching the smile she wore. She knew precisely what he meant without needing him to say it again. Meeting people older than himself was a rarity. Meeting people who remembered a world before its greatest tragedy was rarer still.

The speeder rounded another bend, the forest opening briefly to reveal a sweeping valley below before the trees reclaimed the road once more.

"They remember the world before the Fall," she continued. "Not as stories or history lessons. They lived it. They'll answer whatever questions you have if you ask them. Chek especially enjoys remembering how things used to be, though Marta usually reminds him that memory has a habit of polishing the rough edges." A soft laugh escaped her. "Between the two of them, you'll probably hear the truth somewhere in the middle."

Her fingers rested comfortably within the familiar grooves worn into the controls as the old speeder carried them onward. For a little while she simply enjoyed the peaceful silence that settled between them. It was no longer the silence of strangers searching for conversation, but of two people who had discovered that words were pleasant...and unnecessary just as often.

Without thinking, her free hand drifted across the seat until her fingers found his, giving them a gentle squeeze.

"I think they'll like you, Muad," she said quietly, her eyes never leaving the road ahead. "Not because of how old you are or everything you've seen." Her smile deepened ever so slightly. "Simply because you're you."

Muad Dib

 

[Muad Dib]

Their eyes met, and the amusement in her voice drew a small smile from him. "Yeah, I remember old things. I also remember exactly what to do to make those ears you have turn red." Fingers stroked her tail firmly as he looked out at the view. They had been traveling for some time, and slowly the features morphed from forested woodland into something else.

The first thing noticeable was that the massive trees grew even taller and wider. But with their growth, the treeline diminished, turning from true woods into a somewhat sparsely populated area. More bushes sprouted between the monolith figures. There was a slight grade to the road, which had changed from black dirt and red clay to the grey scale of carved rock. Plant life now grew from pale sandy soil instead of the thick, black soil. His eyes spied several different animals. While they appeared to be similar to the creatures around the communal house, these were leaner and more cautious. Different environments breed different perspectives.

The speeder whined at a higher pitch as they traveled up the incline. What Muad first assumed were hills slowly morphed into the gentle slopes of a mountain range. When her fingers found him, Muad returned the squeeze. He found it truly amazing that it was more natural for him to be sitting here, with her, than it was for him to be on a battlefield only the gods knew where. Yet even as he held her hand, he wondered how long the dream would last. And what happened next when they woke up and were faced with the real galaxy. There was no doubt as to their heartfelt commitment. The question was, would the galaxy allow them their attachment, or would the cosmos seem to pull them apart?

As far as Muad was concerned, he would fight should fate play the fickle lover and seek to eradicate what the two had found.

His mind turned over the two names. Marta and Chek. He was old enough to realize that time was the ultimate perspective. How he felt when he was twenty was foolish by the time he was thirty. The wisdom of thirty was crushed by forty. And fifty proved all that came before was foolish. Sixty taught the ignorance of you. But once he started counting centuries, he learned that a single totalitarian thought or emotion could not sum up life and time. Each moment held delicate nuances that affected the next few seconds, or several years. The destination was no longer the prize, but the journey. Moments became precious because he now knew that they inevitably ended—one way or another.

"I wonder what perspectives they see. How the way they experience their life has altered the way they embrace it. There once was a Sith and a Jedi … true story." He grinned beside Rin, a smile flashing as he remembered the tale of the warrior during winter. "They each had been chosen to come to a backwater planet filled with a race that was still living in the Stone Age. Their purpose was to watch and learn. The two tried to kill one another several times. But they were so evenly matched, neither could ever get the upper hand. Eventually, they decided once a year they would meet. Try to kill the other one."

"As the years slowly progressed, the Jedi and Sith tried, in vain, to kill one another. Until centuries passed and they realized they no longer held a desire to kill their opponent. Time had shaped the men until they no longer saw each other as foes. Time had changed their perception. The pair witnessed the rise and fall, and rise again of this civilization. And a thousand years later, the two returned to the orders from whence they came. The Sith spoke of learning compassion, empathy, and sympathy. How each life, however brief, was a precious light to be treasured. The unique differences between each spark of life were something to be celebrated, not destroyed. And that only through diversity of debate could a peaceful harmony be found. Each life, no matter how small or short, deserved to exist."

"Obviously, the Sith was killed. And then the Jedi returned to his order and shared how every life, from the tiniest of organisms to the most sophisticated of intelligent creatures, was nothing but a vapor in the wind. All life was the same. Generically meaningless. And when life ended, that was it. There was no magical afterlife. No special emphasis for a single person destined to be lost to the sands of time. Each life, no matter how great or long, was worthless in comparison to his own. They were bugs. Either have the sense to move or be scraped from his boot heels."

"Obviously, he was deemed unstable and too powerful to try to keep contained. So the Jedi were forced to euthanize him, for the sake of others. The point of the story is that everyone's perspective changes with time. Sometimes they find the beauty in a single moment and learn to cherish it. Other times they realize that every moment is only one in trillions and holds no importance over others. Time has a way of changing perspective."

He turned his face into the early afternoon light and closed his eyes as he let the warmth infuse him. I've seen sith live longer than I. And every single time they have grown monotonous to life. They have no joy, no love. Even the death of millions can only tease a minute of amusement. I have long wondered if that would be my fate. To become numb to life, to not care, to see the bleakness of existence as a worthless endeavor. And then, to elevate myself higher because I have achieved power to create or destroy. That I had crossed an invisible divider between long-lived and immortal. That I have become a god … there are few with long lifespans who have retained their goodness. It will be nice to see it again.

Muad realized he had been babbling both with his mouth and his head. He closed them and relaxed into his seat.

Rin Taal

 

[Rin Taal]

Rin smiled to herself as his fingers continued their gentle journey through the fur of her tail. The teasing no longer caught her off guard. Instead, it had become something she quietly anticipated, each playful remark carrying the comfortable familiarity that had grown between them. She suspected he enjoyed watching the tips of her ears betray her almost as much as he enjoyed causing it, and she had stopped pretending otherwise. Every now and then her tail answered his touch with the faintest contented flick, a quiet admission that she enjoyed the affection every bit as much as he did.

The road climbed steadily into the mountains, the forests gradually giving way to a harsher beauty. Great stone outcroppings emerged from the earth like the backs of sleeping giants, their weathered faces wrapped in hardy shrubs and wind-twisted trees that had spent centuries clinging stubbornly to the cliffs. The air cooled noticeably through the open cabin, carrying with it the clean scent of stone, pine, and distant snow. Animals here carried themselves differently than those near the communal grounds. Leaner. Wiser. Every movement seemed measured, every pause deliberate, as though life among the mountains had taught caution where the forests had taught comfort. She loved every part of Veradune, but these heights had always held a quiet majesty that invited reflection.

Muad's story drew her attention away from the scenery, her golden eyes lingering on him far longer than the road ahead deserved. She had always enjoyed the cadence of his voice. Even when she questioned one of his conclusions or quietly wondered how much embellishment time had added to a tale, there was something deeply comforting about simply listening to him speak. He carried history the way other people carried memories, each story polished by centuries until its lesson shone brighter than the facts themselves. Rin found herself smiling not because of where the story was going, but because of the unmistakable joy he found in telling it.

A sudden blur of motion exploded from the brush ahead, and instinct had her easing off the throttle before she'd consciously decided to do so. The speeder came to a smooth stop as a brilliantly colored Terylax burst into view scarcely twenty meters ahead, its vivid wings beating frantically as it struggled to climb. Wrapped around its body was a pale Doruvir, its sharpened legs digging into the creature while its long, venomous tail lashed violently behind it. The pair crashed against the rocky roadside in a tumble of wings, claws, and dust before the Terylax instinctively folded in upon itself. Within moments it had become a hardened cocoon, its skull-like visage disappearing beneath the protection of its own remarkable carapace.

The Doruvir scrambled over the cocoon with unsettling determination, its drill-like proboscis probing every seam in search of a weakness. From cracks in the surrounding rock came answering chitters as several more pale forms emerged, their chitin blending so perfectly with the stone that they seemed to materialize from the mountain itself. They gathered around the cocoon, testing it from every angle while Rin rested one forearm across the open window, content simply to watch. Nature possessed its own balance. Predators hunted because they must, prey survived however it could, and she had learned long ago that intervening in every struggle often caused greater harm than letting the wilderness decide for itself.

"If its shell holds," she said quietly, never taking her eyes from the unfolding scene, "it will live. They'll eventually give up and look elsewhere."

For nearly a minute, nothing changed. The colony tested the cocoon with patient persistence until the largest Doruvir slowly lifted its head. Its beady eyes swept across the mountainside before settling upon the speeder. The creature lowered itself against the stone, tail rising slightly as though considering a new opportunity. One by one, the others paused as well, their attention shifting from the cocoon toward the road.

Rin's expression turned into something focused and far more serious.

"Too close."

The rifle was already in her hands. She rested the fore-end against the window frame and waited without haste, allowing the creature one final opportunity to lose interest. It never did. A single crimson bolt cracked across the mountain air, striking cleanly beneath the raised edge of the Doruvir's carapace. The creature collapsed where it stood, and the rest of the colony vanished almost instantly, disappearing into narrow fissures and shadowed crevices with astonishing speed. Silence returned just as quickly as the violence had arrived. After another long moment, the cocoon cautiously unfurled. Brilliant wings stretched hesitantly before the Terylax launched skyward, circling once above the road as though gathering its bearings before gliding gracefully toward the higher forests.

Only then did Rin lower the rifle and return it behind her seat. She watched the colorful creature disappear between the towering pines before easing the speeder back onto the mountain road.

"The mountains teach different lessons than the forests," she said softly. "Most creatures here simply want to be left alone. If they stay where they belong, I'll leave them to their lives. But once something that dangerous starts thinking travelers might make easier prey than the wildlife..." She glanced toward the lifeless Doruvir shrinking behind them. "Then my responsibility changes."

For several peaceful moments she drove in comfortable silence, turning his story over in her thoughts while their fingers found one another once again. His warmth settled naturally into her hand, and she gave it a gentle squeeze before finally looking over with the same quiet smile she'd worn while he had been speaking.

"I think your story says less about time than it does about humility," she replied thoughtfully. "The Sith spent enough time among ordinary people that he remembered every life was precious. The Jedi spent enough time believing his own perspective was the only one that mattered. Time didn't choose either path for them. It simply revealed the direction they had already begun walking."

Her thumb brushed slowly across the back of his hand as her smile warmed into something gentler still. There had been a time she might have kept the next thought to herself. Not anymore.

"I don't think you'll ever become numb, Muad," she said with quiet certainty. "You still stop to wonder how someone else experiences the world. You still tell stories because you hope they'll mean something to the person listening. You still worry about what kind of man you'll become." Her ears gave the faintest twitch before a quiet laugh escaped her. "And you're still entirely too pleased with yourself whenever you make my ears turn pink."

The speeder continued climbing toward the high country, winding between ancient cliffs that had watched civilizations rise and fall long before either of them had drawn their first breath. Somewhere ahead waited Marta and Chek, two souls whose memories stretched back even farther than Muad's own. Rin found herself smiling as she imagined the conversation that awaited them. For perhaps the first time in a very long while, she was looking forward to introducing someone she loved to people she had loved all her life.

Muad Dib

 

[Muad Dib]

When the speeder slowed, he was nearly startled. It wasn't her driving or the display of nature that caught him off guard. It was his willful distraction. The mountains were never a place he ever retreated to. Not that he hasn't spent his share of time within their lofty heights. It merely wasn't where he was drawn to first. Neither the forests with their abundance of life nor the ambiance-filled shores of the sea called to him like a siren. It was the desert.

For him, there was nothing like a trek into desolation. Many called it the wastelands. Nearly every habitable planet shared the same sentiment for the desert—a place of death. Perhaps it was because of the prevalence and prominence of the desert on Drommind Kaas when he was a fledgling Sith. Or his missions to Tatooine. Maybe the dead zones of Manda'yaim. He couldn't place the origin of his love for the desert.

In large part, it was a solemn feeling. Almost as though the desert was holy ground. Most avoided it. And he enjoyed the emptiness. Free of all traces of civilization. But the land was never empty or dead. All you needed to do was be perceptive. Life abounded and adapted. Softness melted away, and you were left with what remained—a lean version of yourself. The wind could bring a soothing breeze or grow into a sandstorm capable of stripping flesh from the bone and eating through durasteel. Resources were scarce. But life found a way. Muad loved the bare-bones existence. You had to listen to nature, or you would fall prey to it. The creatures who called it home knew the patterns and evolved not just to survive, but thrive.

Then there were the havens located therein. An oasis that brought water, vegetation, and animals. In the flat lands, nature and fevered minds created illusions and mirages of these pockets of natural resources. Many wayward travelers found nothing but dust and sand when they pursued the desirous hope. In the desert, need, hope, want, and desire were whims that led to death. Only the real thing offered sustenance. Like the two of them in their relationship, surrendering to base feelings often led you astray. Their decision to walk the path together, to find their own tempo upon the road, and to wait until the moment felt right, was very much like a trek in the desert. Your senses could deceive. Instead of looking with their eyes, which could see the mirages, or listening with their ears that heard the howls of the wind, or feeling the paths forward which could merely be a trail etched by the breeze, or the scent of water that could travel for miles, they traveled not by senses that would lead you astray. Instead, they chose to see, hear, taste, smell, and feel their way using their heart. And in doing so, they found their oasis in one another.

His gaze watched the tempo of nature play out before them. Most sentient beings would see the scenario as unfair. Life was to be cherished, and death shunned. But it was a cycle as natural as breathing. People decried the end, seeing only misery, sorrow, and loneliness. What they didn't, or couldn't, understand was that new life sprang from death. Farmers and gardeners understood the concept. Some produce came from plants that endured season to season. However, some must be uprooted because the plant only produced once in its life. And then they would be uprooted and used in a compost that nurtured the next cycle of life.

Ranchers knew the cycle. Hunters knew the cycle. But for the majority of cultures across the galaxy, they had become sheltered and cut off from nature. Removed from nature's cycle of life springing forth from death. Muad never had that luxury. Neither did Rin. These were truths ingrained in them from youth, and truths they held to over the long span of their lives.

As Rin braced the rifle and fired, he nodded silently to another fact of life. Sometimes things, creatures, people, and governments needed to be culled for the good of innocents. There were times when action was required for the greater good, no matter the difficult decisions inherent within, just like the death of the creature. It needed to fall to protect others. And even its death would continue the cycle as its body would provide sustenance to countless other animals. And a deterrent to others of its ilk not to view two-legged beings as a potential food source.

Even in the small act she performed, Rin proved over and over why he was falling for her. She did what was necessary. Not out of bloodlust or desire to eliminate. But because, in the act, she was protecting others. She didn't, or couldn't, walk away and leave the problem for someone else to deal with. Rin accepted the way things were and acted. Some ways could be changed for the better through action. Others could be changed through inaction. And she constantly revealed she had the strength of character and wisdom to choose the right path.

Maybe not in falling for me … He smirked as his own hand tightened in hers. "Don't expect me ever to lose the pleasure of affecting you. Tis only fair. You affect me more than just on the outside. You've woven your spell into my heart, my witch."

The path up the mountainside eventually led to an alcove etched into the face of the stone. Aided by hands with careful intent, the enclave revealed a great room, reminiscent of massive porches with roofs or even a great sunroom. The cavernous room funneled the wind inside, where somewhere deeper another room overlooked a balcony that breathed the wind current through the home. Plants dotted the edges where the overhang provided shelter from the sun's rays. Long rows of plants stretched along the sides, and more potted plants hung from chains anchored to the stone ceiling. The gentle breeze sent the pots swaying in slow motion.

Great tapestries draped over curtain rods showcasing the handcrafted artwork while serving the dual purpose of dividers instead of doors. Off the road, which led to the initial opening of the home, were bird feeders and pedestal baths for an assortment of avian. Muad found he liked the home, especially the view down the mountain which overlooked the valley and a swiftly flowing river below. Trees extended as a rolling forest of greens and reds, while you could even make out several large communal homes, not unlike the Taal household. As the speeder came to a stop, Muad arched a brow as he opened his door and climbed out. Tool marks in the stone reminded him of ancient temples carved thousands of years before. "Exactly how old are they?"

Rin Taal

 

[Rin Taal]

His words settled warmly within her, and for a long while Rin simply drove, watching the winding mountain road instead of trying to answer immediately. The gentle vibration of the speeder beneath her hands, the cool air drifting through the open cabin, and the comforting weight of his hand in hers all blended together into something she had never experienced before. During her long life she had cared for many people. Family. Friends. Fellow guides. Travelers who had crossed her path and remained in her thoughts long after they departed. She had mourned those who never returned and celebrated those who did. Yet none of them had ever made the world itself feel different.

Muad had.

It wasn't simply happiness. It wasn't infatuation, nor the excitement of discovering someone new. Those feelings she understood. This was quieter than that, deeper somehow, as though the rhythm of her own life had changed without asking permission. She found herself noticing beautiful things because she wanted to show them to him. Catching herself smiling because she imagined how he might react. Wondering what stories he would tell when they reached a place before she ever asked herself what she thought of it. She had no word for that feeling. Perhaps there wasn't one. Perhaps some things deserved to remain larger than language.

His teasing brought another smile to her lips.

"I haven't put any spell on you, love," she replied lightly, her attention never leaving the road ahead. The endearment escaped as naturally as breathing, spoken with the same easy certainty as any other sentence before she continued without the slightest pause. "If you've been enchanted, you'll have to blame yourself for wandering into the forest."

The mountains continued to rise around them until the road finally curved toward a familiar alcove carved directly into the living stone. Even after countless visits, Rin always slowed a little as the home came into view. It never failed to impress her. The mountain itself seemed to cradle the dwelling, protecting it from wind and weather while allowing the open front to drink in the valley below. The hanging gardens swayed gently in the breeze, birds flitted between feeders worn smooth by generations of use, and flowering vines spilled from carefully tended pots that softened the ancient stone without ever hiding it.

A quiet fondness settled across her features as she eased the speeder to a stop.

"I've never actually asked how old they are," she admitted as she shut down the engine. "Or if I did, it was when I was little enough that the answer didn't stay with me." She laughed softly to herself while climbing out onto the weathered stone. "When you're young, everyone older than your parents simply becomes 'old.'"

Her gaze wandered toward the open entrance, warmth immediately finding her golden eyes.

"I only know they've always been here. My grandparents remember them living here when they were children, and their grandparents remembered the same." She shrugged one shoulder with an easy smile. "After enough generations, you stop measuring years and simply accept that some people have always been part of the mountain."

She reached over without thinking, her fingers finding his once more before giving his hand a gentle tug toward the entrance.

"Come on," she said, her smile growing brighter. "I have a feeling they're going to like you... though Chek may pretend otherwise for at least the first five minutes."

Muad Dib

 

[Muad Dib]

He smirked as he offered his rebuttal. "It wasn't like I chose to crash in that forest. But if I had to do it again, including the death and pain that came with it. I would choose it. Because it led me to you." While he began his words with a tease, it ended with full sincerity. Every step together on Batuu and Veradune had drawn him closer and closer to the woman beside him. He never dreamed he would wake up in her bed. Or with her in his heart. In that moment, he almost leaned over to drop a soft kiss against her lips. And then he laughed. Not because he almost instinctively acted, which would have broken his vow. But he realized not kissing her felt more unnatural than kissing her ever would. And just as their hands found each other without thought, if they decided to abstain from physical touch, it would feel foreign, as though a part of them was missing.

Her words rolled over him; the idea that time was a construct came back. Some of the smartest people he had ever met claimed time was a construct used to cage those by their fear of death—a way to control the masses. Muad disagreed, which, considering the intelligence on the other side, may have implied he was not a genius-level thinker. However, Rin's words about the Sith and Jedi earlier reminded him that choices matter. And time mattered, whether it was as short as a day or as long as a century; what you did with it and whom you spent it with made all the difference.

As they walked toward the alcove which offered a respite from the overhead sun, Muad mused on their bond. You either love me or hate me. But one thing's for sure: you'll never forget me.

Just before they crossed the border of the overhang and entered the shade, Muad paused. His hand lightly pulled Rin to his side as he turned and looked out over the amazing view. From their vantage point, you could see clear out to the horizon where majestic trees merely appeared as grass in their sight. Hills gently rolled out to meadows, and the river couldn't be heard. Individual houses were no larger than his pinky where they lay nestled in nature. A city could be seen, tall buildings piercing the sky. And yet it was so distant that the nearby village appeared more vibrant and lively, the villagers no larger than ants. The blue sky stretched across the heavens, not a cloud visible to break the great expanse of blue. Only the sun and a few dozen birds moved lazily on gentle upcurrents.

"This would be the view every man would want if they only had one single moment of sight. Not mine. It would be you that I would want etched onto unseeing eyes. For all of time. But this … this would be my second choice." A soft squeeze of his hand precipitated the harsh sound of falling gravel. It wasn't a landslide. It was Chek, clearing his throat. Muad turned to look upon the other man, and what he found did not match what he expected.

The Zorren male stood no taller than the middle of Muad's chest. Maybe he would be five feet even in boots. But he was barefoot. His charcoal pants were loose, and the vest he wore was snug. Long hair fell to the sides of his face, and the rest was caught up in intricate braids that fell across his shoulders and down his back. Only the color of his hair hinted at his age—the white of freshly fallen snow. Even the massive eyebrows were brilliant in their alabaster hue. His skin was darkly tanned, almost matching the mountains in shade and strength. His arms were thick. But not as thick as his neck. They weren't toned in definition, though their sheer size revealed his great strength.

And he was as wide as he was tall. Chek wasn't fat, just enormously solid. Even wider than Corren by half again. Huge forearms crossed over his barrel chest and were barely able to meet. The tips of leathery ears peeked from his hair as Chek looked up at them, his nose reminiscent of the beak of a large bird of prey. A scar ran from the stern widow's peak and split the right eyebrow in half before carving a deep valley down one cheek to his square jaw. The scar continued down his chest to where it disappeared beneath the brown, leather vest. Apparently, his right eye was not spared; the familiar milky white revealed he was blind on that side. From his belt hung two tools. A hammer nearly as ancient as the man and a massive knife that was large enough to be considered a short sword.

From his neck hung an old leather thong. Beads of various sorts strung along its length. Gold, silver, and platinum. Stone, glass, and even a hollowed emerald. Many other beads of wood and various metals, with even one that looked suspiciously like beskar. Chek took a few steps forward, directly toward Muad—neither the presence nor the expression on a face as stoic as carved granite was warm or welcoming. Muad looked sideways at Rin before he released her hand to step forward, which narrowed the distance between the men. The two men just stared at one another. Seconds stretched into a few minutes as Muad simply waited.

It was the look of two men looking into the unseen past. Of two men familiar with taking the silent measure of a stranger. The gaze between two predators gauging the merits of the beast across them. And the weighted silence of observation. A testing that played out without motion or sound. Finally, after several more minutes, Chek made a sound in his chest that sounded like, 'hhmmph'. He gave a small shake of his head before moving over to Rin, the massive arms wide for a hug that encircled the much smaller woman.

"Been too long since your last visit. And then you bring a boy with you. At least he doesn't bow up like a puff bird. Or run his mouth like a song bird. Or preen his plume like a show bird." The black eye and milky eye glanced over at Muad before he looked back at Rin. "And he doesn't get offended like a young hatchling, squawking for his mother. I now see you didn't bring a boy but a man. Still don't know if he's good enough for you, child, but at least he has a few years on him. Better come in before Marta reams me for keeping guests out in the heat." Another glance came Muad's way. "Then you can catch us up on your latest travels, how Corren and Maeve are doing, and properly introduce us to the young man you brought and tell us a little about him."

Rin Taal